


Thaw

by Imminent_Em



Series: Gathering Ice [5]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, F/M, Longing, Nightmares, Recovery, Romance, Self-Loathing, Slow Burn, ever so slowly, past trauma, they're getting there ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-04-24 21:45:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14364342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imminent_Em/pseuds/Imminent_Em
Summary: His world has funneled down into a single point of light, the candle in his years of darkness. He reaches for her, despite her heat, despite the burn of her presence. Before him yawns the abyss, and he knows in his fractured heart that he has a choice - the numbing abyss; the scalding flame.





	1. Chapter 1

Jenny was a song, gently pressed chords of an improvised melody that floated down an empty street through the still evening air. Bright notes tripped cheerfully over each other, unhurried as they painted their portrait. Her tune was distant, half-remembered, a soft smile as she peered at him through her lashes. Coy and sweet, wittily pleasant, she was the natural foil to his habitual bitterness, his sharp tongue. 

Her hand slipped from his, the empty space she left stinging with the fresh cold. A cracking sound echoed in his skull, like the breaking of ice in a lake at the beginning of a thaw. There was a whisper on the wind, a brief flash of pain, a deep blue dress with a printed pattern of the tiniest white flowers.

Nick stood alone on the strangely empty street. His blood pounded in his chest and he didn’t know why. He looked around, eyes watering as he tried to see through the fog surrounding him. There was something numbing about it, something soothing. The fog mingled with the leftover summer heat that pulsed up from the blacktop. A bead of sweat rolled down his face, then another. That felt...wrong somehow.

He didn’t know why.

There was a heavy pounding of booted footsteps, somewhere out in the fog. It sounded near, but there was no way to tell. The sound passed, then faded out, leaving Nick in the grey darkness as the stifling heat grew. Off in the distance, the sound of shattering glass broke the eerie stillness, followed by the unmistakable echoes of muffled gunfire.

A gun was in Nick’s hand, though he hadn’t a clue where it had come from. It was heavy in his grip, the metal weight cold and familiar. He started walking; towards what, he had no idea. Each step was driven by something other than his conscious mind. The fog was thick, swirling in mesmerising patterns.

When he took his next breath, however, something changed. The winds shifted, and he suddenly couldn’t get enough air. What he did get in burned his throat and nose on the way down. Ash hung heavy in the air, drifting gently to settle over the ground in little piles. The gunfire grew louder, and Nick walked faster. It was like his feet already knew the path, guiding him sightlessly through the haze.

Colours began to bloom around him in flashes through the smoke. Shouts and cries rang out in between the snaps of laser weapons firing and the cracks of gunpowder. He almost tripped, stumbling blindly over rubble of some kind.

A shape suddenly hurtled out of the blanketing smoke at him. There was a spiked club, raised high, a crazed face set in a rictus grin. And then it was gone, the woman toppling forward to sprawl at Nick’s feet, face town into a gory mess by his shot. His gun pulsed with fresh heat in his hand like a living thing. Glass shattered again and he started at the nearness of the sound. Fire burst into life a scant few feet away from him, heat searing out in a wave. Molotov cocktails, then. They hadn’t started the big fire that roared just out of sight - Nick knew that, somehow - but they were certainly keeping it going. Nick skirted the fire, intent on an objective he couldn’t remember. 

Then he stopped.

He didn’t know how he could see her. The smoke was as thick as ever, the unseen sky just as dark. Oranges and reds pulsed around him from the obscured fires. But he  _ could  _ see her. A girl who looked utterly lost, dazed and barefoot. Her straw-coloured hair was sweat damp, clinging to her face and neck. The skirt of her blue dress was torn at the hem.

Nick was running before he knew what was happening. The smoke pulled at his coat, arms, and legs, trailing off after him. His gulps of air only pulled in more of the awful miasma, burning in his heaving chest like a gulp of acid. He was too far away, he knew it, but he kept running. The girl turned to him as if she heard his footfalls through the maddening cacophony of screams and gunfire, and her eyes -  _ not Jenny, its not Jenny- _

Nick slammed into her, pushing the girl to the ground and falling with her. There was a stinging feeling spreading in his right shoulder, but he ignored it, rolling into a crouch and raising his gun. He fired blindly into the haze, and was rewarded on the fourth shot by a cursing cry. Another shot, and the cry abruptly cut off in a choked gurgle.

Nick looked for the girl, frantic in the few seconds it took to find her. She was scrambling away, her eyes huge. So close to her, he realised the white sprinkled over the faded navy of her tattered dress wasn’t a flower print at all, but ordinary specks of paint. That tiny detail whispered into the back of his mind, even as he raised his hands in a gesture of peace. He wanted desperately to reassure her, to calm the panic in her eyes, to tell her it was  _ him _ , it was her Nick -  _ she’s not Jenny, you fool, it’s not her  _ \- but words couldn’t get past his throat. He inched closer, hands open and facing her, his gun carefully pointed up and away. Her eyes widened with fright, but not at him. Nick followed her gaze over his shoulder, turning and rising.

He never saw what hit him, only felt the glass shatter against his face, his upraised arm. The shards sliced at his skin, and he was burning, falling as the heat melted into him, until he couldn’t take any more and the blackened smoke pulled him under for good.


	2. Chapter 2

The days passed, and passed, and passed, the number lost in a nearly unbroken sea of white. With each day, Nora slowly grew stronger, her illness slipping away. The cough lingered for a time, a sandpaper roughness that stuck in her throat. She smothered it when she could, and tried to ignore Nick’s half-hidden expression when she couldn’t. Like Nate had always said, it was useless to dwell on other people’s worries.

The days passed into a week; then another, and another. Marcy came and went, strangely docile, though still sharp-tongued as ever. She plied Nora with teas of varying palateability until the cough was finally purged. The ever present chill stayed on even beyond that, however, a shiver that she couldn’t seem to shake. It woke her in the middle of the night every now and then, a sharp bite of cold that seized in her chest, spiderwebbing across her back like cracks in a sheet of ice. Sometimes Nora wondered if she’d ever feel warm again.

Midway through the third week, Nick and Nora received an unexpected visitor. With Nora’s now habitual morning tea came the distinct rapping of knuckles on wood. And standing in the snow-

“Connie?” Nora exclaimed. “What brings you up here?” The rush of intense cold from the open door settled in Nora’s chest, catching her breath as she spoke. “Is everything alright with the farm?”

Connie brushed a wind-blown lock of hair from her red cheeks. Her smile was sincere, but stiff, like she hadn’t done it in so long that she’d forgotten the intricacies of the movement. “It’s fine - we’re….fine.” The hesitation spoke of something more, but Connie bulled through it. “Thank you for the concern, but I’m actually just here to drop something off.”

“Really?” Nora arched a brow, suddenly curious. “Well, come in out of the cold then.”

Connie obliged, stomping the slush from her boots as best she could. As Nora closed the door behind her, she realised Connie was carrying a large, long, cloth-wrapped bundle slung over her shoulder.

Connie glanced around the room, and on noticing the state of the table, grimaced. “Sorry for barging in like this. Should’ve realised I’d be interrupting your breakfast.”

Nora waved it off. “You’re not, really. I should be cleaning it up right now anyway.”

Nick came in from down the hallway, rolling a shirtsleeve back down. Nora caught a glimpse of metal and exposed wiring before he buttoned the cuff. “Connie,” he drawled. “Always a nice surprise. What brings you over to our little corner of the map?”

Connie smiled back at him. “Good to see you too, Mr. Valentine. And I’m just stopping by to leave something for the two of you.” With that, she shrugged the large bundle off of her shoulder. “Here. As thanks for all your help.”

Nora reached out with both arms, awkwardly taking the package from Connie. As she did, she nearly dropped it. It was _heavy_ , heavier than it looked, large as it was, and cold to the touch. “Thank you, Connie.” She paused, not sure how to ask. “Um. What is it?”

Connie shrugged, looking somewhat self-conscious. “Its a roll of Brahmin hide.”

Nora looked back down at the bundle, suddenly not sure what to do with it. “Oh.”

“We weren’t sure if you’d think it was a bit macabre or something.” Connie smiled again, looking the tiniest bit apologetic. “You seem like city types. But we thought you should have it anyway. You did right by us, even if we did lose the animals in the end. That means something out here.”

A lump stuck in Nora’s throat as she tried to reply, glancing back up to Connie. “Thank you. Really. This means….” She trailed off, unsure of what she wanted to say. “I just wish we could’ve done more.”

“Me too.” Connie tucked her hands into her coat pockets. “But what’s passed is past. We know you did what you could. And we’ll be fine, don’t worry. Especially with the Minutemen behind us.”

Nora jerked her head into a nod, her throat still tight. “Of course.” She considered the bundle in her arms for a moment, before setting it on the couch and turning back to wrap Connie into a hug. The woman was stiff with surprise before returning the embrace. “If you need anything, let the folks here know, alright?” she said, pulling back.

Connie patted her arm. “You’re sweet, Nora. And we might take you up on that, come planting season. But like I said, we’ll be just fine. We’ve certainly been through worse.”

“I know, I know,” Nora said. “I worry, though.”

Connie ran a hand through her hair and tugged her coat back into place. “Well, don’t spend any extra energy fretting over us. You just focus on building up the Minutemen. The Commonwealth being what it is these days, we’ll need that kind of strength more than ever.”

“Message received,” Nora replied. A faintly sick feeling that had nothing to do with her recent illness twisted in her gut. She pushed the feeling away before it could really settle its hooks in and asked, “Do you want to stay a bit longer? Maybe warm up before you head home? I can brew some fresh tea, if you like.”

Connie shook her head. “No, I should be getting back. But thank you.” She walked back to the door to let herself out. “Stay safe, Wright.” She tugged the door closed behind her, shutting out the stream of bright sunlight that had briefly crept in.

Nick let out a long, low whistle, hands in his trouser pockets. “Hell of a gift to give for a whole lot of nothing on our part.”

“Yeah,” Nora said, her gaze drawn to the roll of hide on the couch. “I guess it wasn’t nothing to them.”

Nick grunted, and walked over to begin unwrapping the bundle. “Still. Brahmin hide isn’t all that easy to find. Breeding the animals can be difficult enough out here that most folks are loathe to butcher their cattle.” He cast a glance back at Nora. “Makes for a pretty pricey gift.”

Nora joined him as he finished unwrapping the bundle. The hide within was more or less what she’d expected to see; a leather-like texture, covered in soft, fine reddish brown hair. “That’s all well and good, and I appreciate the gesture. But what on earth am I supposed to do with an entire Brahmin’s worth of hide?”

“I -” Nick stopped, leaning over the couch, then chuckled quietly. “You know, I’m not really sure, myself.” He looked sidelong at her, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I guess we really are ‘city folk’, huh?”

Watching him smile, _properly_ smile, was like basking in the sun’s warmth for a moment. It felt _good_ , better than Nora had thought it would, and it made her realise how long it had been since he’d looked at her, looked at anyone like that. Weeks? A couple months, maybe? Far too long.

Nora snorted softly, shaking off the abrupt melancholy. “Well, there go my hopes and dreams of becoming a bona-fide farm girl.”

The smile still lingered around Nick’s mouth. “You would be wasted on a farm, anyway. You’re a far better detective.”

Nora turned, leaning against the back of the creaking old sofa. “I don’t feel like one.” She ran a hand over her face. Her head was starting to hurt. “I feel like I’m just bumping around in some dark basement trying to find a lightswitch and failing miserably.”

Nick chuckled. “Hate to  break it to you, but that’s about ninety percent of the job right there.”

Nora groaned, dropping her head back. “Ugh. I miss the days when my job consisted of sifting through mountains of paperwork.”

Nick sighed quietly. “Me too, doll.”

Nora let the silence settle a moment, before crossing her arms. “As clueless as we are, I feel like we should do _something_ with this hide.”

Nick shook his head slightly, visibly pulled from his thoughts. “No, you’re right.” He straightened and dusted his hands. “We can go ask Jun or Julie if they know what to do with it.” He tapped the side of his nose lightly. “Probably best to give Marcy a wide berth, though. For now….” Nick reached out and gave the hide a curious poke. “Looks like Connie was keeping this thing frozen.”

“Alright.” Nora walked around the couch and gathered up the icy bundle again. Nick raised an eyebrow, a polite question in his worried glance, to which she shook her head. “I’m fine, Nick. I’ll toss it in the crate out back with the firewood.”

“Sounds good to me.” Nick started rolling his sleeves back up. For the smallest moment, it was almost as if he hesitated in undoing the right cuff, but continued the movement. “I can get started on an early lunch?”

“Cooking again?”

Nick shrugged. “Might as well make myself useful. No point in you doing all the work.”

Nora smiled at him from the back door, her hand on the knob. “Well, it is getting better.”

Nick returned the grin, some of the easiness from earlier still present. “Impressive for someone who can’t taste the food, I think.”

“I’ll say. Keep this up and you’ll be better than me.”

Nick chuckled. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

“Trust me, you’ve never had my cooking,” Nora replied. “It’s not a high bar.”

Nick shook his head. “Guess I’ll have to take your word for it then.”

Nora left at that, pushing the back door open and kicking it closed behind her. The laughter had left a warm glow in her chest, but it swiftly dissipated in the frigid morning air. The cold smacked her in the lungs, as usual, and she found herself shivering immediately. Even the short distance to the crate of firewood by the corner of the house had her wishing she had about five more coats. She lifted the lid to it with already numb fingers, and carefully set the roll of Brahmin hide in the nest of chopped wood. God only knew what she could possibly do with it.

Nora was about to go back in when a slight movement caught her eye. She stopped, freezing in place as best she could, and slowly turned, looking for the source. Just at the edge of the treeline, past the ruined fence, stood a motionless Radstag. One set of eyes blinked lazily at her, then the other.

It continued to stand there, staring her down, and Nora gradually straightened. It didn’t bolt, and Nora tilted her head. The only basis for comparison she had for a Radstag was a deer, and that would’ve run by now. Maybe because Radstags had needed to become more predatorial to survive in the Commonwealth? Who knew.

The Radstag, to Nora’s surprise, took a step towards her. Then another. It lowered its head, casting around for something on the ground. Not finding anything but snow, it let out a _huff_ of air, visibly billowing from its nostrils. Nora found a smile creeping across her face, enraptured. She’d never had an opportunity to get this close to a Radstag before. Nick had warned her that they were shy, but fiercely territorial, and so far that had proven true in her travels. But here one stood, apparently unafraid. It was so close that she could see what she had thought to be melted red skin was actually a sleek, red-brown hide, much like a pre-war deer. One of the heads tilted back and sniffed at the side of the house. The other continued to regard Nora curiously. It was as if -

The cold finally got to Nora’s throat. Oversensitive from weeks of coughing, she burst into a sudden fit, turning away. The Radstag reared back in surprise, four fore-legs kicking wildly, and it bounded back into the treeline, silent in the snow. Nora cleared her throat and stood by the door a moment longer, hoping it might come back. After a minute, she finally caved to the cold and hurried back inside, shivering. The treeline had remained empty, the dark green fir boughs only stirring with the wind.

 

* * *

 

He was getting too close.

Well. _Getting_ was an understatement. In the privacy of his own mind, Nick was forced to be honest. He _was_ too close. Had been for a while. He wouldn’t have paid it any mind, except -

Except she was his client. Except for the fact that she was mourning her husband and searching desperately for her son. And she needed a partner far more than she needed - well, whatever it was Nick wanted to be. _More_.

Someone, _something_ like him was made to be alone. Nothing he could do to change that. But she made him feel like so much more than what he was. She made him feel like he mattered. And in a world that didn’t care in the least about him…

But it was time to face the music. He was in far too deep. And he had to stop.

He didn’t _want_ to leave her, dammit - but if he didn’t, it wouldn’t end well. They could only travel so long together before something slipped. It was inevitable. Better to cut and run while he had the chance to do it cleanly. He had the feeling that Nora wasn’t the kind of woman to let unreciprocated feelings ruin a friendship, but Nick wasn’t the kind of cad to put her in a position like that.

When to leave, though? He’d made Nora a promise. They were seeing this through, together. Nick was going to help her find her son. And when that was done….only then would he leave her side.

It was searingly painful, thinking like that. But that was it. A few moments, and he’d made his decision. Heaven help him, he hoped it was the right one.

 

* * *

 

“What do you mean, you need to apologize? For what?”

Preston glanced down to his feet, rubbing at a faint and ragged scar on his palm. Nora huddled further into her tatted sweater while she waited for an answer. No matter how close she sat to the fire, or how many blankets she piled on, she couldn’t seem to stay warm. The remains of the fever chill clung to her still, and she wished - silently, guiltily - that Preston would hurry up and get on with whatever it was he was so worried about.

Preston, for his part, had been acting strangely around both her and Nick for the past several weeks. He seemed anxious, preoccupied the few times he’d stopped by. At first she’d thought he was worried about getting sick. But the better she got, the more distant he became.

And now today, to confound her even further, he’d practically marched in before awkwardly announcing that he ‘needed to apologize’.

So yes, she let him stew and waited as patiently as she could. She hadn’t the slightest idea what this was about, but if Preston needed to get something off of his chest, she’d let him. He’d certainly done enough time as a sounding board for her to warrant that.

Preston, still fidgeting, cast a mysteriously pleading look over to Nick, who was lounging at the kitchen table with one of Nora’s old law books. How he managed to keep reading those dry old things, she had no idea.

“Valentine?”

Nick looked up, glancing quickly between the two of them, and shook his head. “Oh, no, Garvey. I’m not getting involved in this.”

“But-”

“ _No_ ,” Nick repeated. “Don’t try dragging me into your mess, Preston. This is between you and Nora. Besides,” he said, flipping to a new page with perhaps a bit more force than was really needed, “I already told you that this is foolish.”

Curious. Nora’s interest was definitely piqued now. She raised an eyebrow at Preston, who was floundering in a moment of uncharacteristic panic. “Care to fill me in, Preston?”

He looked down at his hands again. “I need to apologise for - I mean -” He stopped himself, drew back his shoulders a bit. He finally looked her in the eye and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, General, for- well, for not paying attention.”

Nora glanced at Nick, who was studying the book with an air of determination. If anything, she was even more confused. Some small, manic part of her couldn’t help feeling like a schoolteacher confronted with an unnecessarily contrite kindergartner. “I’m sorry, Preston, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He shook his head, obviously annoyed with himself. “I’m not very good at this kind of thing. Words, I mean.” He rubbed at his scalp with one hand. “What I’m trying to say is that - I don’t know, I’m worried that when I offered you the post of General, you felt like you didn’t have any other choice. That you accepted because of pressure and regretted it after.” The ground, like a lodestone, drew Preston’s gaze to it once more. “And that you feel….unqualified to lead.”

Oh.

_Oh._

As the silence began to gather uncomfortably around them,  Nora tried to marshall her thoughts into some kind of order. Each time she opened her mouth to speak, her tongue stuck and her brain scattered. As much as she wanted to outright deny it, there was a chorus in her chest that kept echoing the words _truth, truth._ Here was the secret, the rotting shame she’d been carrying around the last few months, laid bare. And she knew Preston and Nick wouldn’t judge her for harboring it, but how had he _known_? Had he somehow guessed at her most bitter thoughts? How did he - no, that wasn’t the most important question.

Why was he apologising for it?

Nora looked at her hands, so calmly and neatly folded in her lap. They were cold, cold as the rest of her, no matter what she did to warm them. “Preston,” she began. Then stopped. Anything she could say right now felt wrong.

She tried again, slowly, wary of misspeaking. “I don’t know what’s made you feel this way,” she said, carefully keeping her gaze fixed on her lap. “You’re….you’re not _entirely_ wrong.”

Silence. She swallowed, hard. Looked up, quickly adding, “But how I feel, it’s - you’re not to blame, Preston.”

His brow furrowed, confused, but he managed to keep his questions at bay. At the table, Nick had pushed her old book aside, leaning back in his chair with one arm still resting on the tabletop. His expression was perfectly still. Unreadable. Nora rubbed at her arms, the chill stronger. “I - whatever you may think, Preston,” she said, “or whatever I may feel, I chose this.” She paused, letting that sink in. “You didn’t pressure or coerce me into accepting. Was i perhaps a bit overwhelmed by it?” She stopped again, almost faltering as she took in a deep breath. “Yes.”

Preston opened his mouth to interject, but she held up a hand and continued. “Do I sometimes regret my decision? Yes.” She met his eyes. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I _made_ it. And was it the right decision?” She shrugged. “I don’t know yet. I think it was.” Nora looked down at her hands again, picking nervously at a nail. In a quieter voice she added, “ I hope it was, at least.”

A sour silence slipped into the room after her words faded. Nora tried shrugging off the feeling, tossing her head slightly and smiling tightly up at Preston. “Don’t worry about it, Preston,” she said. “I made a choice, it’s as simple as that. It’s my burden to bear.”

Preston heaved out a sigh, running his hand over his close-shorn hair. “Alright. I guess that’s it then.” He glanced at her again, his face softening out of the nervous mask he’d had on earlier. “You said….well, you said you don’t know what I think.” He squared his shoulders a bit. “I happen to think you’re the right choice. Wouldn’t have asked you otherwise.”

Something broke inside of her; in her chest, a tiny chink of ice melted under a warm glow. Nora felt her smile relax into something more natural. “Thank you, Preston.”

He nodded, the movement stiff. After an awkward moment, he seemed to collect himself. “Well then. I’ll get out of your hair.”

Preston grabbed his hat, making his way to the door. He stopped there, however, his hand on the knob. “Gen- Nora, that is. You, um -” He stopped himself, very clearly not looking at her. “You said that it was your choice to do this, and I guess it was. But you’re my General.” He waited a beat. “It’s my job to worry about you.”

And with that, he left, tugging the door closed behind himself.

The stove fire crackled quietly. Nora leveled her gaze at Nick from across the room. “Valentine.”

Nick didn’t move, his expression still distant. His only response was a soft grunt.

Nora chewed the inside of her lip, wondering how far to push. “Nick,” she said again. Softer this time.

Nick looked down and away. On the table, his skeletal metal hand tightened into a fist,and slowly uncurled. With a rough scraping sound, he stood up, moving with the same pained stiffness as ever. He cleared his throat. “It’s not my business.”

Nora kept looking at him, trying her damndest to keep her face still and calm. “And yet you stayed in the room.”

Nick shook his head, and began rolling down his shirtsleeves. “It’s not my place to have an opinion.”

“So you do have one?”

He snorted. “Christ, Nora. I’m trying not to be an ass here."

Nora crossed her arms. “Do you get the impression you’re succeeding?”

Nick chuckled at that; just a little, but it was enough. He walked around the table. Stopped. Sighed. “For what it’s worth? He’s right.”

Nora eyed him curiously. His recalcitrance was a common enough stumbling block between them, but she hadn’t been expecting it here. “About what part?”

Nick looked down, to where his intact hand was resting lightly on the worn edge of the couch next to him. Quietly, he said, “All of it.”

Before Nora could respond, Nick snagged his duster from the couch, slipping it on in an easy, practiced movement, despite the tightness in his bearing. “I’ll be back,” he said shortly. “Going for a walk.”

With a second wooden thunk of the door, Nora was left quite alone in the room, wrapped in dim firelight and surrounded with questions.

 

* * *  


There is an incredible cold all around her. It settles in her bones, catches in her throat. She cannot breathe, cannot move. She is chained in the ice.

Trapped where she can do nothing but watch, a familiar scene unfolds. There is a bright light, a receding frost on glass. Voices carry into her prison, muffled by layers of steel. And then the crack, that horrible percussive sound that smashes through the air, through the steel, through the ice all around her and shatters her entire world. Everything around her splinters, falls to the ground, and she can’t even move to try catching the scattered pieces. There is a rushing sound all around her, like a river moving past, picking up speed until it solidifies into a roar, and then it is gone. There is a field of white, snow and ice and a cloudy grey sky. Her cage is gone, and a massive bear pulls away, satisfaction in its too-intelligent eyes.

It paces around her, and Nora shivers. This is wrong, but she doesn’t know why. She shakes like a cornered rabbit as it circles again and again and again. It’s eyes never leave her. A stolen glimpse shows her claws as long as her fingers. With each step, there is a crunching sound, the claws digging into the ground, and Nora realizes: below them is ice. She looks down, and there is a spiderweb of cracks. They radiate out from her feet, bare against the blue white ice. They fracture her reflection, distort it into something unrecognizable.

Some of the snow blows from the ice, and for a moment, Nora forgets the beast still circling, drawn by movement below her. There is a fluttering, a flash a movement in the darkness, and then a hand. It presses up against the ice, and it clears, becoming glasslike. Nora drops to her knees, peering through. There is a man below her, trapped in the water. His mouth opens, but there is no sound. His hands press against the ice, and then scratch and pound on it to no avail. He is drowning, she thinks to herself, and at first the thought is faraway.

The thought grows, however, builds and builds until it is screaming in her head. Nora begins to scrabble at the ice as well. She casts around for a tool, something to use to crack the ice further, but there is nothing. Off to the side, the bear growls. Nora curls into herself for a moment, a wave of inexplicable terror flooding through her. When it subsides, she looks instead for the cracks that were below her feet, for the center. And she hits it.

Again and again and again, she punches at the epicenter. Crimson smears across the ice, but she can’t feel it. Below, the man has stopped fighting. He stares up at her, eyes slowly going blank, and its only then that she sees, that she recognizes him. The bear roars from behind her, deafening; the ice finally splinters, and all she can see is Nate, it’s Nate, it was always Nate -

 

* * *

 

Nick was already awake, already dwelling on sour thoughts in the small hours of the morning when Nora gasped from her corner. The sound was small, sharp, like someone cutting their hand on a stray piece of scrap metal. He sat up, looking over. Under her mountain of covers, her form twisted, turned over. She gasped again, and it sounded like a sob.

“Nora?” he ventured into the stillness. There was no response. He could hear her breathing getting faster, and she shifted again. “Nora?” he repeated, louder.

This time it worked, and Nora jolted out of sleep, scrabbling frantically at the covers for a brief moment before settling down. Her chest was still moving quickly, as if she had jogged through the town.

He chewed on his lower lip a moment, a nervous habit. “Want to talk about it?”

He could see his words cut through the lingering haze of sleep, even in the darkened room. Nora didn’t look at him, kept her reaction minimal, but still. He saw the jump in the muscles of her shoulders, the curl of her fingers. Was her hand shaking as she buried it in the covers?

Nick settled back into the couch. “You don’t have to. I just…..you keep offering for me. I figure I should return the favor. If you need to.”

Nora shook her head. “I just….I don’t know.” She glanced around, a wildness in her eyes. “I need to warm up, I think.”

She rolled herself out of bed and made for her pack, fumbling in the dim light. Nick heard her curse quietly, before she asked, “Can I get a light?”

There was a small, battered cigarette case in her hands, a glimmer of copper from between her fingers. Nick nodded, reaching for his duster. “Sure thing, doll.” He fished his old lighter out of the breast pocket and tossed it to her.

She caught it, lighting her cigarette with clumsy fingers; just from the sleepiness, or just the cold, he couldn’t tell. She inhaled, the soft glow of the cherry pulsing in time, and exhaled slowly. She tossed the lighter back to Nick. He caught it easily, slipping it into his pants pocket. “Didn’t know you had a private stash hidden away.”

Nora grinned half-heartedly in a flash of teeth. “Emergencies only.” She rubbed at her forearms, shivering again. “Tea, I think. Tea will help.”

As she walked over to the kitchen, Nick took the opportunity to light a cigarette of his own. He joined her, leaning against the counter while she busied herself with the pot. She glanced over as he did, and made a face. “Sorry I woke you.”

Nick shook his head. “It’s fine. I was already up.”

She snorted softly to herself. “Some pair we are. Can’t even get a full night’s rest between us.”

Nick didn’t have a response to that. He moved the ashtray over from the far corner and set it between them. They sat in silence for a bit, until Nora’s water had heated. He watched her go through the now familiar motions, almost entranced. She came back to the counter after a few moments, huddled around her steaming mug. After a few sips, she must have noticed Nick’s attention.

“I’d make you tea, but….” Nora trailed off, fidgeting with her cigarette.

Nick smiled faintly, taking in a long drag from his own. “Is that your solution to everything?”

Nora returned the grin. “In my defense, it is applicable - and helpful - in most situations.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Nick tapped his cigarette against the edge of the ashtray, smoke curling up idly in the space between them. His gaze wandered around the room, until it caught on the forlorn little radio in the corner. “How about a bit of music instead?” He shrugged. “A little something distracting never hurt.”

Nora glanced at the radio as well. “I’d like that, actually.” She stubbed out her cigarette and crossed over to the table it perched on. “You think we’ll get a signal?”

“We might,” he said. “Weather’s been clear the last week or so. Shouldn’t be much to interfere with it.”

He got up as Nora fidgeted with the knobs, smoke in his hand. The room filled with the soft rushing sound of static, until, finally, it began to warble itself into a smooth jazz number. Nora straightened, looking rather pleased with herself. She adjusted one of the antennae slightly, and the signal cleared up even further. Hands on her hips, she glanced up, her nose scrunched. “This sounds so familiar; I’m sure I’ve heard it.” She paused. “Gery Mulligan, maybe?” she offered, tilting her head to the side.

He sauntered a tad closer and turned up the volume, listening. Shaking his head, he said, “No, earlier than that.” He let a beat or two pass, almost swaying to the music. “Couldn’t tell you, actually.” A grimace crossed his face. “Never could keep the artists straight in my head.”

Nora quirked an eyebrow at that. “You? With your perfect memory?”

Nick shrugged, a bit defensive. “I was never really paying attention, if I’m honest.” He took a long final drag from his cigarette, then turned to snuff it in the ashtray. “I dunno. I always enjoyed listening to the music for itself, right? Who wrote the thing was kind of secondary to that.”

“I can see that,” Nora said. She leaned back against the edge of the kitchen counter, fingers absently tapping away at it. Her gaze flicked briefly to the old back door across from her, before jumping back to the dim room. A furrow creased her brow and stayed there. Nick recognised the look, although he had never actually seen it from the outside before. It was muscle memory kicking in, telling her there was still a window where now there was only metal and boards.

He knew the feeling well enough. The shadows of a world long gone felt like they haunted every empty and shadowed corner sometimes. Built in reflexes that he couldn’t shake were his constant companions, like the way he lit his cigarettes, or in the way he always expected the desk drawer in his office to catch instead of opening smoothly.

It was hard, seeing Nora do the same thing. And in his abrupt desperation to distract her, he did something that was perhaps a bit foolish.

Nick took a careful, formal step away from her and the counter, enough room for him to extend his hand out between them. He smiled, as easily as he could, trying desperately not to let his terror of being rejected show. “Care to dance, Nora?”

Her eyes flicked from his hand to his face, and slowly, impossibly, her expression broadened into a grin. “Really? You mean it?”

Nick shrugged, still unsure with the soundness of this plan. “Dead serious, doll,” he said lightly. “If you would do me the honor?”

“Well then,” Nora said. She placed her hand in his with deliberate care, allowed him to draw her in close. “Why not? I certainly couldn't find a better partner if I tried.” Her tone was playful, but despite that, Nick couldn't help but glow with satisfaction.

And with that, they began to dance.

They started slowly, careful to match the smooth jazz on the radio. Nick focused on enjoying the feel of her under his hands, keenly aware that he may never get a moment like this again. They stepped once, twice, feeling out the music, took a lazy turn across the floor. The tune slowed down, and they settled into an easy waltz, the steps coming to Nick surprisingly naturally. He didn't have to think about it, and for that, he was grateful.

The skin of her hand was soft and slightly dry. Under his skeletal fingers at her waist, her pulse was quickening. Her cheeks were faintly flushed with the movement, her hair tucked carelessly behind one ear.

She was achingly beautiful. Moreso because of her nearness.

For the briefest moment, Nick reconsidered his decision to leave her when all this was done with. What kind of fool could leave a woman like her anyway? The turning of his mind broke free at last from its restraints and wondered what it would be like to be near her like this all the time. If he could stay, would she come to care for him? He hadn't thought so; yet here they were, dancing like they'd known each other for years. She trusted him enough to hold her close, to help her find her son. Hell, she trusted him with her life, when it came right down to it. Could she still trust him if she knew? In time, could she -

But no. That way lay pain, and heartbreak, and a thousand other problems that Nick knew deep down were insurmountable. And she deserved so much better than him. He reeled his rampant imagination back in with a fierce tug, and tried to enjoy these precious few moments.

Step, two, three, and a turn as they moved. Nora had a casual grace about her, her spine straight and shoulders back. Another few steps, a turn, and she met his gaze, a smile tugging at her lips.

Her breath disturbed the air between them, brushed against his neck as she spoke. “Where’d you learn to dance, Nick?” There was a sparkle in Nora’s eyes as she asked. Nick found himself trying to memorise that look, fold it up like a photograph and tuck it away in his heart.

He collected himself as swiftly as possible, clearing his throat as he glanced to the side. She was very close indeed. “Valentine - the original Valentine, that is - he used to go out to clubs.”

“Yeah, I used to do that too, with Nate. Used to go out every weekend to dance,” she said wistfully. After a moment, her gaze snapped back to him, curious. “Say, you ever go to the Boylston Club?”

The way she effortlessly blended the two Nicks bouncing around in his head set him on edge. No matter how much he _felt_ like the old Nick, he wasn’t. He _couldn’t_ be. It felt too much like impersonating someone else when she acted like he was. He knew it was pointless to bring the subject up again, however, stubborn woman that Nora was.

Instead he replied, “Boylston? Yeah, I’ve been there, a few times.” He smirked while digging back into the original Nick’s memories in a scramble. Visions of bright dresses and a haze of cigarette smoke surfaced. “Bit young for my tastes.”

“Probably for us too,” she confided. “But it’s where Nate and I met. We used to go there a lot, just because it was - well, it was our place, you know? It’s the kind of habit that’s hard to shake.”

Nick’s grip on Nora tightened involuntarily, and he quickly smiled to cover it. “Well. It certainly paid off. You’re a good dancer.”

“Thanks. Step on enough people’s feet, and you eventually learn something, I guess.” She laughed, low and soft.

After a few moments of silence, Nora made a small noise in her throat. Something in the way she smiled changed. “I just wonder, sometimes - Nate and I, we spent so much time apart. Sometimes I wonder if I really knew him.”

Nick was startled. “What do you mean?”

“I just - its stupid.” She was silent, gaze dragging off to the side.

“Nora?” Nick pressed.

Nora sighed. “I don’t know, I just - when we met, we were kids, you know?” She shook her head. “I had just started in college - and Nate had too, but when I met him, he’d already enlisted. He was military from the first moment I met him. We started dating, and it was _good_. And then he got sent away.

“For a little bit, I didn’t know if I was going to wait for him. He was the guy I was dating, yeah, but it was starting to feel like I’d barely gotten the chance to really know him before he was just gone.” She laughed, and it rang through the cold room, the sound bittersweet. “And then, Nate, being the cheeseball that he was, sent me a letter. And it was this fabulous, five page romantic gesture that he had handwritten and sent to me from the middle of nowhere, talking about how he missed me, how he couldn’t stop thinking of me, and laughing at himself for being such a goof. And I just couldn’t help it. I didn’t want to be with anyone else after reading that. So I waited. Then he came back. And then he deployed again. We got married when he came back that time. And off he went _again_.”

“I finished my law degree and started practicing. And when he was back, I don’t - each time he was back, he was different, you know? I had no idea what to do with him when he came back for good. He was….changed. I don’t know what Anchorage did to him, but it was something worse than before. He was back with me, but I’m not sure Anchorage ever stopped for him. It was like he was ….stuck. And then we had Shaun. He was so good to me, and he was good to our baby, and I just - But still, you feel sometimes like you don’t know someone. You think about it afterwards, but we can’t change what’s happened. We can’t go back. But sometimes you wish that you’d spent just a little more time getting to know someone.”

Nick grunted quietly. There was a torrent of raw emotion pouring off of the woman in his arms. Beneath his hands, her muscles were tensed. Their steps had slowed, slackened, trailing behind the music artlessly, but neither of them stopped going through the steps. He considered saying nothing, but the pain in her voice….it was all too familiar. “It’s a tough thing. Not sure you can ever really _know_ someone, down to their bones. That kind of thing is always going to be out of reach. But you can love them, all the same.”

“Maybe you can.” Her voice was low, thoughtful, tight with some emotion that he couldn’t place. “When Nate came back - the first time too, but mostly the last time - I found myself apologising, for every little thing I did. I felt like I was doing something, _everything_ wrong. He kept saying that I wasn’t, but it damn well felt like it. We were living in a minefield, looking back, except only Nate knew that, and I had no idea what would set the mines off, or where they were. It wasn’t even that he couldn’t talk to me, because he _did_ , but it wasn’t enough. And I-”

“I know what you mean.” The words were cutting in Nick’s mouth, a handful of glass, broken and scattered memories that he didn’t want to keep, and yet couldn’t rid himself of.

Nora caught his gaze with a sharp look. “Do you? I’m not sure what _I_ mean. But he was _changed_ , Nick. And sometimes I think I’m changing too. And then I think that maybe it’s just unavoidable, that we just change no matter what. We must, because I know I’m not the same person I was when I met Nate.” She was looking over his shoulder. Her eyes looked wet in the dim light. “But I just keep coming back to that, and thinking that I might not have known him anymore. That maybe, when we weren’t looking, he changed into someone else. It hurts so much that he’s gone, and I’m just terrified that I loved the idea of Nate more than the man who actually came back to me. And if that’s true, then I’m not sure I want to know what it feels like to really, fully love someone, because this by itself hurts so goddamn much, Nick, and I - I can’t -”

Nora bowed her head abruptly, going quiet. For a moment, there was only the sound of the low music and her careful, slow breathing. When she spoke again, she sounded more controlled, her voice even again. “There are some days where I just think about him being gone, and how I’m never going to see him smile again, and that - I don’t know. And I keep saying that, but that’s all I _can_ say, and it just makes me feel so useless.  Because I should know, shouldn’t I? I’ve listened to enough sob stories in my time. I’m sure your job called for it too. Everyone’s got dead people, right? I’m just saying the same things that’ve been said a thousand times over, and I know nobody wants to hear it -”

“Hey.” Nick squeezed her shoulder, caught her gaze. They had given up the pretense of dancing several minutes ago, as the music moved on lazily without them. “Listen to me, Nora. If I didn’t want to hear it, I would’ve stopped you a long time ago.” He cleared his throat, terribly self-conscious and painfully aware of it. “We’re partners, right? Friends? I’ve got your back, Nora. And if that means listening to what’s on your mind, then so be it.”

“I guess you’re right.” She looked over his shoulder, eyes distant. “It’s so strange; it always hurt so much to listen to my client’s stories, and now I _am_ one of them. A stranded woman with little recourse in a world set against her.” A sad little smile crossed her lips. “Almost sounds like the plot to my very own movie.” She shook her head, like she was physically brushing the levity aside. “If I find Shaun, what next? What am I supposed to do? I never planned to raise him by myself. I never planned on a - a nuclear wasteland.”

Nick shifted his feet, gave her shoulder another squeeze. “I don’t think anyone ever gets all they planned for in life. It’s what living is like; you get thrown your curveballs, and you adapt until you don’t.”

Nora laughed bitterly. “It really feels like a poorly directed picture sometimes. But I guess there’s nothing to do but soldier on, right?” She sniffed quietly, then shook her head. “Just promise me something, Nick? Promise me that you’ll stay, at least until this is done?”

A stab to the heart, if ever there was one, and Nick suddenly felt guilty. “Once this is done…” He looked down, to the space between them. So close, and it still felt like miles. “Once we find Shaun, you won’t need me anymore. You’ll move on with your life, as you should, and leave this painfulness behind you.”

Nora bit her lip, looking away. “I’m starting to think that may not be the end of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, Nick, you’ve got to be feeling it too. If what that bastard Kellogg said is true, if the Institute really has Shaun, and if we _do_ somehow get him back, then what? The Institute just drops the issue, no problems? There’s got to be more to the picture, Nick. We’re missing something. Shaun wasn’t taken on a whim; there has to be a reason, and I feel like there’s so much more to this. Finding him might not be the end of this.” She looked up at him. “And I know whatever happens, I’ll need your help, Nick.”

Nick could just taste the guilt on his tongue, thick and sticky and bitter. “Don’t worry. I’ll be here as long as you need me, Nora.” He cleared his throat. “Everything will work itself out. It’s how the world works.” He chuckled sadly at her expression. “I know you don’t want to hear it right now, that it sounds pointless and inane, but it’s true. We stick together on this, we’ll be fine.”

They stood together for a moment, and Nick offered her his hand again. “Come on, dance with me a bit more. Give an old synth something to think about, huh?”

It was Nora’s turn to laugh. “We’ve done a terrible job of distracting each other, haven’t we?” She quickly wiped her eyes and stepped up to him again. “Well, at least I’m not so out of practice I’m stepping on your toes.”

They waited a beat, and began moving with the music. “There’s truth to that on both sides, I think. I remember-”

Nick stopped himself, practically biting his tongue before he let out more than he meant to. As usual, Nora missed nothing. “What? Nick?”

“Its nothing.”

Nora tossed her head, her brow furrowing the tiniest bit. She looked….annoyed. “Come on, Nick. Don’t give me that. I just poured my damn heart out to you; the least you can do is tell me _something_.”

Nick sighed. “You’re right. Sorry, I just….habit, I suppose. I used to have a partner, and - well, she used to step on my toes all the time. Seemed worth the pain at the time. Guess it was.”

“This was at the Boylston?”

“No, no; Alewife Clubhouse, I think. Out by Cambridge.”

That got a raised brow from Nora. “My, my. Aren’t we fancy?”

“Lady’s choice.” A shard of memory, crystalline  and painful, slid to the surface. “She was….beautiful. Cherry blonde hair, and eyes that could stop your heart in a glance.”

Nora smiled, the expression soft. “Sounds dangerous.”

“When she wanted to be.” Nick chuckled, remembering his first date with Jenny, her dress and her eyes staring back up at him, his aching toes. “Turns out, she wasn’t actually that bad of a dancer. She was just so nervous, she kept stepping on my damn feet.”

“She seems like she was sweet?” Nora offered up. There was such kindness in her eyes, looking up at him. Just like Jenny. For a moment, Nick found it hard to think.

“She….she was.” _And you got her killed._ He cleared his throat, and his next words were bitter on his tongue, the truth and yet still a lie. “Sweet wasn’t much good when the bombs fell.”

“Yeah. Neither was bravery, I guess.” From Nora’s expression, she was thinking of Nate. She was right; they were terrible at distracting each other. “Fuck. When did we end up so maudlin, Nick?”

“I dunno. I’d blame it on alcohol, but uh…”

Nora smiled wryly. “Yeah. we’ve had none.”

“The tea, maybe?”

“Seems a likely suspect.”

“Or you’re just delirious with fever again.”

Nora’s face twisted unhappily. “Ugh. Don’t remind me. I’m just glad that the sore throat is all that’s left.”

The song changed, and they went along, falling back into a waltz. “You had us worried there for a bit, you know.”

“I’m sorry, Nick, it-”

He stopped her before she could get any farther. “Hey. No need to apologize. Nothing you could’ve done to stop that.”

Nora shook her head. “No, but you do deserve an apology. I’m sorry for holding back.”

Nick pulled back a bit as they moved, getting a better look at her face. “Holding back what?”

She looked up at him, her expression almost reproachful. “Nick. I was sick and I knew it. I was….ignoring it, hoping it would go away. I’m so used to the thought of always having a doctor on hand, I suppose the thought of a cold didn’t worry me nearly as much as it should’ve.”

Nick squeezed her hand gently. “You’re right, I suppose. But in the end, it worked out all right. And next time, you’ll know.”

The corner of her mouth quirked up. “Yeah, to not go charging off through miles of knee-deep snow and fight a rabid Yao Guai?”

“Something like that. Probably didn’t do you any favours.”

“Yeah, probably not.” Her grin faded, and her expression became distant. “You know, I kept dreaming about a bear - not a yao guai, a proper bear. I don’t know, I couldn’t get it out of my head.”

“Was it….were you fighting it?”

“No. I just remember….it kept circling me; sniffing, I guess? Like it was waiting for me to do something.” She sighed, the sound exasperated. “I don’t know. Probably doesn’t mean a damn thing. Honestly, I think I’m still hot and bothered about the Abernathys.”

Nick focused on his feet for a moment, avoiding her gaze. “Same here.”

“It just seemed off, you know? At first I thought, maybe I came down with whatever the Brahmin did? But Marcy says she knows what it was, and I remembered that I felt bad before we saw the Abernathys.”

“And….well. If whatever it was would cross over to people, one of the family likely would’ve come down with it too.”

“That too. I don’t know. I want answers, Nick.”

“Don’t we all,” he muttered.

“Well, I’m going to get them.” Her tone was firm, and he almost smiled at it. Her stubbornness could be wonderfully endearing.

In a heady rush, he found himself staring at her, her face focused as she concentrated on moving to music, the song changed again. Before he could stop himself, he began to speak. “Say, Nora–”

A sudden burst of static cut across his words, making them both jump. The waltz fell to pieces as they both frowned at the malfunctioning radio, and Nick had a silent moment to realize just how close he’d come to ruining _this_.

Nora stepped towards the radio, unaware of Nick’s silent self-beratement. “What was that?”

Nick followed her to the counter. The static hadn’t let up. “Hell if I know. Did we lose the signal?”

The static continued, and then suddenly a voice warbled out of the radio, fading in and out. _“....this is Three-dog, com - you live from the Capitol Wasteland. We’re Galaxy News Radio, and we’re - for you.”_

There was a pause, and Nick opened his mouth to speak, but Nora waved him quiet before he could get anything out. _“In news, we have an upd - ood of Steel has - reports of - ship and troops movi - ooks like someone’s in for - world of hurt.”_ Nora was leaning forward intently, crowding the radio in an effort to hear. _“....all you resisters out ther - keep - fighting the good figh - hree-dog, bringing you - truth no matter ho - it hurts.”_

With an abrupt screech of static, the voice was gone, quickly replaced by the smooth strains of Ella Fitzgerald. They both recoiled at the sound. It was as if nothing had happened. Nora looked up at Nick, confusion splashed all over her face. “Did - did he say the Capitol Wasteland? Where is that?” When he didn’t immediately respond, she pressed him again. “Nick?”

He shook himself, trying to get his thoughts in order. That voice….it had been years since he’d heard it. It didn’t bring pleasant memories. “Its….its the ruins of D.C. The capitol, I mean, not Diamond City.”

“How did we pick up a signal all the way from D.C.? Our radios aren’t that good.” She shook her head, as if trying to clear it of errant thoughts. “More to the point, how is there anything left of the Capitol? I always thought it would be the Red’s first target.”

Nick grunted darkly. “It was. There’s not much left but ruins and radiation. Still, plenty of folks manage a living out there.”

Nora looked at him with interest. “So you’ve been?”

“Once.” Nora raised an eyebrow expectantly, and he shook his head, slashing his hand through the air before she could object. _Anything but that._ “It didn’t end well, alright? I’d - I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Oh.” Nora looked abashed, glancing down at her hand, clenched on the yellowed counter.

“Let’s just say it’s not a place you want to go.” He shook his head. “Another time, alright?”

Nora nodded reluctantly, and he felt a wave of relief. She changed tacks, brow furrowed. “What was that they said about the Brotherhood?” she asked.

“I’m not sure. Didn’t sound very supportive, whatever’s going on,” Nick said wryly. “The Brotherhood faction that came here, though? Can’t say for sure, but I’d lay down good money that they’re from the D.C. chapter.”

“You say that like there’s more than one,” Nora said warily.

Nick glanced at her, befuddled, before the gears in his head started turning again. Of course. “Sorry, doll. Sometimes you do such a good job of taking everything in stride, I forget that there are gaps. The Brotherhood, from what I’ve heard over the years, has multiple chapters, spread out over the country. Heard once that that were based in the ruins of Chicago, although I’ve no idea if that’s true at all. Also heard a rumor that they’ve made it as far as California, but again, can’t swear to the truth of that. But the ones out in D.C. weren’t so bad, not too long ago. About ten years ago, some news came up that they were involved in starting up some kind of clean water project, I think? They’ve been quiet since then, though. Hadn’t heard much from down south until this fall, when they came flying in on that damned ship. Doesn’t bode well, I think. No one walks into a bar carrying that much firepower and not expecting a massive fight.”

Nora’s face was grim. “I agree.”

Nick pushed away from the counter, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Something to dig into, I think.”

“Really?”

“Sure. There’s the occasional caravan between here and there. Plenty of people are willing to chat for a few caps. We could probably get a bit more insight without going too far out of our way.” Like a thunderbolt, an idea struck him. Or rather, a face. He snapped his fingers excitedly. “That mercenary, in the Third Rail! Macready? He’s from the Capitol Wasteland. If we want to dig around, we could see if he knows something.”

“Good idea.” Nora drummed her fingers against the countertop, lost in thought.

Nick grinned smugly, seeing his opportunity and taking it. “Why, thank you. I do occasionally have them.”

She glanced at his expression, smiling to herself. “Quiet, you. On the way back from the Glowing Sea, then?”

“Works for me.”

Nora glanced at the radio. “Well. That kind of ruined the mood, didn’t it?”

“Depends on what kind of mood you were going for, I suppose.”

“Not intrigue and suspense, that’s for sure.” There was a deepening pause, until she exhaled sharply. “Shit.” Nora ran her hands through her hair, looking around the room like she was expecting to find something new sitting in the corner. She finally settled on Nick, sighing heavily. “I need another smoke.”

Nick nodded. “Same here.” He walked over to the counter to collect his lighter and pack of cigarettes. Then he paused. Near them, glowing in cheerful green, Nora’s Pip-Boy was displaying the time. In a burst of inspiration, Nick grabbed up the smokes and crossed to the couch to slip on his overcoat. “Come on, I’ve got an idea.”

Nora looked on in bewilderment as he began lacing on his boots. “Where on earth are you going, Nick? It’s the middle of the night.”

Nick snatched her coat from the hook by the door and tossed it to her. “Just come with me.” He smiled as endearingly as he knew how to, a glimmer of hope heavy in his heart.

Nora returned the smile cautiously. She slipped on her coat after a moment, shaking her head. “I’ve certainly done crazier things,” she muttered quietly, and sat down to tug on her own boots.

The predawn air was just as Nick had expected it to be: icy and biting, and perfectly, wonderfully still. The sky seemed black until he gave it a proper look, and realised it was lightening into a soft palette of blues. It reflected against the snow, pale and luminescent around them. He led the way, breaking a path down the drive and across the street, cutting in between darkened houses. Nora followed, quiet aside from the crunch of snow beneath her boots and the short, sharp intakes of air.

He started leading them down the hill to the riverbank. As they walked, Nora asked, “How long do you think until the snows clear up?”

“Hmmm. A few weeks, give or take. We’re getting to the end of the season here.”

“Really? That soon?”

Nick chuckled at her tone. “Probably. It’ll be like an ice age for a while yet, and we’ll more likely have a few more storms, but travel will be easier soon. I’d say I can feel it in my gut, but….” on seeing Nora’s face “Hey, don’t worry about it. I’ve just been in the Commonwealth for too long. You’ll get get the hang of it yet.”

“If I even make it that long.”

He glanced at her. In a mild tone her said, “Thought we agreed not to be maudlin.”

“You’re right, you’re right.” Nora clenched her jaw, though whether it was from holding her tongue or the cold, Nick couldn’t tell.

They made it down to the riverbank, and Nick started dusting snow off the top of the wall. Nora laughed softly. “Again?” He just flashed her a smile in response. They clambered up, settling down together. Nora pressed into his side with a shiver, but grinned up at him when he glanced down. He pulled out the cigarettes and lighter, passing them to her. There was a _click_ in the quiet darkness, and a small scarlet glow as she lit hers. He did the same, and they sat for a few moments in quiet contemplation of the pre-dawn sky.

After a while, as the sky slowly lightened in the east, Nora cleared her throat. “Once the snows break, once we get a chance….I want to head straight for the Glowing Sea.”

Nick took a drag, then glanced over at her. She was staring at the horizon, unmoving except to bring her cigarette to her lips. “Right off the bat? It’s going to be hellishly cold, Nora.”

She sighed, sounding resigned. “I know. But….I’m scared Nick. We’ve spent so much time here -”

“We had to.”

“I _know._ We were snowed in, and this was the best place to spend the winter, but….what if the Institute didn’t need to wait for the weather?” She finally looked at him, and he could see the desperation, which had for so long been lurking, come to the fore in her eyes. “In Kellogg’s memories, we saw them teleporting, right? What if the Institute just keeps grinding along, ignoring all the things that hinder the rest of us?What if Virgil is dead, has been dead for months? What if our lead is gone, just like that, because we had to wait and they didn’t? What if we hike out to the middle of the Glowing Sea and find _nothing_?”

Her thoughts were uncomfortably close to the turn his had taken over the past couple of months, but he tried to shrug that trepidation off. “Hey. Even - even if this Virgil is dead and gone, or disappeared by some Institute spook, doesn’t mean there won’t be anything. It wouldn’t be the end. Even without him, we’ve still probably gathered more information on them anyone else out here.”

Nora took a deep breath, coughed out part of it. She ran a hand over her face, scrubbing at her cheek. “You’re right. I just get stuck in my head, going in circles. Still stir-crazy, I guess.”

Nick fiddled with his cigarette. “Happens to the best of us.” He scanned her face in the dim blue dawn light. She looked….tired. “You sure about this? Heading out as soon as we can?”

She nodded firmly; despite the exhaustion, her expression was resolute. “I’m sure. We need to. No more waiting. Let’s find our man, and get into the goddamned Institute. Shaun’s waited long enough.”

“Couldn’t agree more.”

The sun was just barely cresting now, the shades of blue sky mingling with the fresh yellow. It should be a beautiful clear day, barring any surprise storms. The stars gradually faded out, east to west, until only the strongest were faintly visible in the darkest parts of the sky. Beside him, Nora was breathing quietly, a hot and solid presence to his right. The faint rays of sun gently graced the snow, and Nick could feel a tiny bit of their warmth through his coat.

“It was nice,” Nora abruptly blurted out into the quiet.

Nick looked at her in askance, confused by the sudden declaration. “What was?”

“Dancing with you.”

A bloom of warmth that had nothing to do with the rising sun welled in his chest, even as Nick tried to deflect the feeling with humor. “Why? Pleased you have someone who will indulge you in your Old World notions?”

Nora bumped her shoulder into his playfully, shaking her head. “Please, as if you aren’t enjoying this too. It’s more….having someone to listen, who understands.”

Nick looked down at her again. Her pale face was serious, framed in windblown waves. Another little piece of his heart broke looking at her, dropped to the ground and disappeared. “I’m always here for that, Nora. Like I said. Partners.”

She smiled at him, hugging her overcoat closer. “I’m glad for it.”

They continued watching the sunrise for a while longer, sharing Nick’s last cigarette when they ran out. After a time, they were startled by a sudden, sharp _crack_ from below them, almost like a gunshot. Nora’s gaze immediately whipped to the horizon, but Nick nudged her and pointed down to the river.

“Looks like we haven’t got long to wait after all.” Below them, a long, thin crack had appeared in the iced-over river. Nora glanced at him, a question in her eyes, and he nodded, taking a last drag of the cigarette before passing it back to her. A freshly cold breeze cut through his duster, making his metal bones ache all the fiercer. “The thaw’s beginning. Winter’s almost over.”


End file.
